


Adventures of Minnie and Sev

by melannen



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-05-17
Updated: 2003-05-28
Packaged: 2017-10-03 03:38:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melannen/pseuds/melannen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of drabbles, in which Severus Snape and Minerva McGonagall explore Hogwarts Castle. (And have sex.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Defense Against the Dark Arts

Severus and Minerva slipped into breakfast late, taking the only two empty seats remaining at the staff table: the ones nearest Lockhart, of course.

Hilda Vector was the next closest; she was saying loudly to Kettleburn, with a glance back toward Lockhart, "Did you hear about the new wall-mounted foe-glass? I'd think our Defense teacher would want one-- if he can make room among all the self-portraits."

"Those two need to stop sniping and start snogging already," Minerva muttered to Severus, who barely managed to hide his snigger behind a napkin.

Lockhart looked up, his smile twinkling. "Now, now, my dear," he said, "A foe glass is all well and good, but nobody makes a better Dark Detector than Gilderoy Lockhart!"

Minerva froze with a sudden thought. "Gilderoy-- do you mean to say that your portraits serve as Dark Detectors?"

"Of course, old girl!" he said. "They report back to me-- tell me everything that goes on in my office! Wouldn't want any students using it for," he waggled his eyebrows, "illicit purposes, eh, Minnie?" he jabbed her in the ribs.

Minerva had the most peculiar expression on her face; Severus appeared to have choked on his breakfast.

"Won't be able to talk to them until after morning classes, of course," Lockhart continued, "But it's always a joy-- I'm not one to toot my own horn, but I am a dazzling conversationalist."

Severus stood up suddenly. "I have-- a-- potion. Needs checking." he said, and ran from the great hall.

Minerva buried her face in her hands.


	2. The Headmaster's Office

The afternoon of the day after Harry Potter defeated Voldemort, when Dumbledore came back--

The afternoon of the day after Harry Potter defeated Voldemort for the third time, when Headmaster Dumbledore came back to Hogwarts, he held a faculty meeting in the staff room to (officially) catch up on what had happened during his absence. Not that he didn't know everything already, of course.

He asked Minerva to wait afterward for a private talk; Severus stayed as well, pretending to eavesdrop over the Potions journal he'd been reading during the meeting. Well, all right, he was eavesdropping, but it was mainly because he didn't want to be loitering in the hallway like some fourth-year Hufflepuff, waiting for his girlfriend to finish talking to the teacher.

Dumbledore was getting her to fill him in on her actions as Deputy Headmistress. "I worked out of my own office, Headmaster, it wouldn't have felt right to use yours."

"Nothing worth watching on the surveillance crystals, then, Minerva?"

Severus dropped his Potions journal with a loud snap. Minerva glanced at the sound, eyes wide, then said, "Surveillance crystals? I didn't know you had that system set up. Can't the portraits tell you?"

"Ah, better safe than sorry, Minerva! Plenty of ways to get around portraits, as I'm sure Severus could tell you. But as you assure me my office was kept locked, I suppose I might as well reset them, unread?"

"Yes, yes, Headmaster," she said quickly. "I imagine that would be best."

"Good enough! I'll head up and do that, then. Oh, and by the way-- if you've been looking for it, the house-elves have the tartan brassiere I found under my desk." He smiled and left.

Minerva collapsed into the chair next to Severus's, and put her head on the desk. "He twinkled at me, Severus," she moaned.

Severus looked at her for a moment, then patted her gingerly on the shoulder. "Better you than me."


	3. The Potionmaster's Office

Lucius, as usual when he had an errand at Hogwarts, stopped by Severus's office on his way up.

"Were you aware," he asked, "that the Ministry has your office under surveillance?"

Severus sighed. "Unfortunately, yes. It was part of the bargain that kept me out of Azkaban. I can fool the visuals easily enough; otherwise I do my best to give them a show."

"Hmm." said Lucius. "And were you also aware that it's ridiculously easy to bribe the bureaucrats for the transcripts?"

He smirked at the look on Severus's face. "Give them a show, indeed. I wouldn't have though it of you, you old snake. Pass on my regards to `your little pussycat'."

Severus had not gone red. He had not.


	4. The Divination Tower

Sybill Trelawney wafted dreamily into the Great Hall at dinner, and innocently took the no-man's-land seat between Severus and Minerva.

"Condescending to dine among us mortals, Sybill?" Minerva asked with raised eyebrows.

Sybill gave her a thin smile. "I prefer to descend to the noise of the school as little as possible, Minerva, in order to maintain the serenity of my Inner Eye. But this morning I found that the energies in my tower were entirely unsettled."

"Bad vibrations, Sybill?" asked Flitwick, across the table.

"It was so nerve-wracking," she gave him a look of misty gratitude. "As sensitive as I am, I could not endure the intensity of the perturbations."

"Something has scrambled Sybill's sensitivity?" hissed Severus.

"It is as the afterglow of a great emotion, the heartfire tincture of a grand passion marked by pain and destiny," emoted Sybill. "Such conflagrations of the heart leave auric ripples that can disrupt clairvoyance for eons to come. I will have to clear the room of influences before classes tomorrow."

"Who in the world would be getting passionate in your tower, Sybill?" asked Minerva, with a sidewise glance at Severus.

"Oh, it has happened before," said Sybill airily. "Every so often students will convince themselves my tower makes a romantic trysting place. `A seraglio ambiance,' I believe Molly Weasley described it." She gave a long-suffering sigh. "As soon as the forces are tranquil enough, before I perform the purification ritual to the aethers, I shall backtrace the auras of the perpetrators and explain to them that such-- things-- are damaging to my retreat."

"You can track aura remnants?" asked Minerva, sitting up straight.

"Quite easily," said Sybill smugly. "I know you believe divination is highly inaccurate, but with such strong emotional traces I've never made a wrong identification."

"Actually aura tracing is closer to Arithmancy than Divination," muttered Vector, next to Flitwick, but Minerva wasn't listening. She looked slightly shell-shocked, in fact, and sent Severus a desperate, pleading look.

"Oh no," he replied. "I took care of it last time. This one's all yours, woman."

Sybill looked from one of them to the other. "With all the disruptions of my Inner Eye, I fear I have missed something," she said.

"Never mind, Sybill," said Severus, passing her a dish. "Have some tripe."

She gave him a look, but decided to dismiss the issue, and continued, "Young love is so inspiring, is it not? I think I shall draw up a compatibility reading as well, as a gift to my passionate trespassers."

Minerva transfigured her pumpkin juice into rum and finished off her glass


	5. The Caretaker's Office

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um, implied bondage?

The scruffy lantern-eyed cat stalked out of Filch's with an offended twitch in her tail, followed shortly thereafter by a frantic tabby, to the sounds of masculine protest.

The tabby cornered the other down the hall, visibly nervous. "You won't-- you won't tell Argus, will you?"

The skinny cat licked herself contemptously before answering. "Who a queen chooses to mate with is her own business. But *really*. Couldn't you at least try to live up to your felinity?"

The tabby ruffled herself, embarrassed. "I'm sorry. We honestly didn't know you were there, Mrs. Norris. I can't hear or smell very well as I -- usually am. And you were well-hidden, to human eyes."

"Flattery will get you nowhere, Professor. If you're going to rut on another queen's territory, it's only common courtesy to switch to your superior form and ask permission." She forestalled the professor's protest with a patronizing flip of the tail. "But as it happens, that wasn't what I meant. I was referring to your execrable taste in toms. All those young, randy males in your pride, and you choose that one? Does he ever groom his fur?"

The tabby curled her tail defensively around her feet and narrowed her eyes. "He can't help it, it grows that way. Better greasy than scruffy, anyway. Not that you're in position to talk; I saw you with that Cruikshanks your last time-of-month. Really, he resembles an old carpet; I know anything must look good after Argus, but--"

"Ohh, you've gone too far now," she hissed (that phrase is sufficiently sibilant for hissing in Ailurin), claws out.

The professor backed away quickly and crouched submissively. "Sorry, sorry, I shouldn't have said that, I'm a bit out of sorts, you interrupted us at a bad time."

"Well." said Mrs. Norris. "Perhaps." She let her fur settle back down, accepting the excuse. "I suppose I would not be happy, either-- but really, I don't know why you even bother with human men; boringly straight and smooth-- they aren't even barbed! I've looked!"

"Um." said the professor. "Perhaps I should say that I prefer prickly personalities, and leave it at that. Will you just promise me, queen's honor, not to tell Argus what you saw?"

"I so swear, queen to queen. I wouldn't have told him anyway, you know; there are some things Man is not meant to know. But!" she added, "I won't guarantee his temper if you don't clean, and properly put away, his precious whip and shackles once you've let your tom down."

The tabby's eyes went almost as big as Mrs. Norris's. "Oh god! I left Sev chained up! Sh-- shoot!" She ran back down the corridor full speed.

Maybe most cats can't grin, but the Cheshire Cat could, and Mrs. Norris certainly was.The scruffy lantern-eyed cat stalked out of Filch's with an offended twitch in her tail, followed shortly thereafter by a frantic tabby, to the sounds of masculine protest.

The tabby cornered the other down the hall, visibly nervous. "You won't-- you won't tell Argus, will you?"

The skinny cat licked herself contemptously before answering. "Who a queen chooses to mate with is her own business. But *really*. Couldn't you at least try to live up to your felinity?"

The tabby ruffled herself, embarrassed. "I'm sorry. We honestly didn't know you were there, Mrs. Norris. I can't hear or smell very well as I -- usually am. And you were well-hidden, to human eyes."

"Flattery will get you nowhere, Professor. If you're going to rut on another queen's territory, it's only common courtesy to switch to your superior form and ask permission." She forestalled the professor's protest with a patronizing flip of the tail. "But as it happens, that wasn't what I meant. I was referring to your execrable taste in toms. All those young, randy males in your pride, and you choose that one? Does he ever groom his fur?"

The tabby curled her tail defensively around her feet and narrowed her eyes. "He can't help it, it grows that way. Better greasy than scruffy, anyway. Not that you're in position to talk; I saw you with that Cruikshanks your last time-of-month. Really, he resembles an old carpet; I know anything must look good after Argus, but--"

"Ohh, you've gone too far now," she hissed (that phrase is sufficiently sibilant for hissing in Ailurin), claws out.

The professor backed away quickly and crouched submissively. "Sorry, sorry, I shouldn't have said that, I'm a bit out of sorts, you interrupted us at a bad time."

"Well." said Mrs. Norris. "Perhaps." She let her fur settle back down, accepting the excuse. "I suppose I would not be happy, either-- but really, I don't know why you even bother with human men; boringly straight and smooth-- they aren't even barbed! I've looked!"

"Um." said the professor. "Perhaps I should say that I prefer prickly personalities, and leave it at that. Will you just promise me, queen's honor, not to tell Argus what you saw?"

"I so swear, queen to queen. I wouldn't have told him anyway, you know; there are some things Man is not meant to know. But!" she added, "I won't guarantee his temper if you don't clean, and properly put away, his precious whip and shackles once you've let your tom down."

The tabby's eyes went almost as big as Mrs. Norris's. "Oh god! I left Sev chained up! Sh-- shoot!" She ran back down the corridor full speed.

Maybe most cats can't grin, but the Cheshire Cat could, and Mrs. Norris certainly was.


End file.
